


in your favorite darkness

by smutpeddler



Series: i will possess your heart [4]
Category: IT (2017)
Genre: F/M, The end is the beginning, bridge chapter, mild religious blasphemy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-06-09 05:17:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15260229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smutpeddler/pseuds/smutpeddler
Summary: there's so much farther down the rabbit hole to go, you haven't even taken the first step sweetie.





	in your favorite darkness

**Author's Note:**

> so i know it's been a while. life swallowed me whole. but i am back with chapter for. i know it's not a lot, and not a lot happens. but it's a bridge chapter for the stuff about to come. hopefully you like it.
> 
> Tumblr; wherewecangazeintothestars.tumblr.com

   Bethany could've followed. Pulled on her jacket, climbed over the sill, hopped onto the bay window and made a quick jump down. She'd done it countless times before. But the way he skulks down the dirt road, she knows that's exactly what he wants. He knew she was prey, _his prey,_ but she wouldn't come so easily. Willingly, but not easily. Patrick Hockstetter was an anomaly. A big, black hole right there in little old Derry, whatever this boy pulled into him seemed to be irreversibly changed. It stopped being of this universe. She'd drag her feet into that deep, dark place she seemed so desperate to jump head first into. She watched him as best she could until he disappeared into whatever place he had sprung forth from, knowing now why her eyes strained for a lanky frame among the shadows. Her body almost shook with the knowing, an understanding that made her want to scream as loud as she could, a roar louder than ever before. Where ever that boy had come from, what ever part of their chaotic universe had spit him out blood and bone, had somehow done the same to her.

_I'm not talking about this with you anymore!_

    She still pulls the jacket on. Gloves on, hood up, two packs of smokes and a lighter. It's all she needs.

     _Oh? You don't want to talk about it? Now!_

   The jump from her windowsill to the bay window's ceiling is quieted by the ever familiar argument. She rolls her eyes, instead focusing her attention on making it down to the ground without to large a tumble.

_Joshua, stop-_

   Her knees always buckle when she hits the ground, the first few times it made her heart pound. Now it's easy, almost walking before feet ever hit the perfectly manicured lawn, in front of their perfectly built home. It had never felt like her home.

_No! Not until you tell me the truth._

   Nothing had ever felt like home before if Bethany was being honest with herself. The closest she'd ever come were moments like here and now. In the dark, where no one could see her, no one wanted to. She could go where ever she wanted. Do whatever she wanted. Nothing. No One. More and more those words began to feel like they belonged to her. That one might be the name she was meant to have, some lost identity her parents had torn from her in favor of perfectly normal name, hoping for a perfectly normal life.

_Joshua! She's upstairs! Don't-_

   She glides down that same dirt path that her hunter, because that's what he really was, had just disappeared from not moments ago. The words seeming to flash before her eyes, bright as moonlight. Nothing. No One. Invisible.

_Good, Carla! Then she can hear you admit that I've spent 16 years raising a bastard and her ungrateful mother!_

   Why shouldn't she dive head first into the abyss? Joshua and Carla wouldn't care, a bemused smile twisted her lips, they might even finally leave each other. The roundabout arguments about her “true parentage” seemed to be such an easy mask for them. Everyone in Darey seemed to wear masks and if someone didn't wear theirs, they ceased to exist, to matter.

   “Who might you be?” the words slither out of the darkness, her vision black, the moon lost behind the twisting branches above her.

   She wasn't Bethany. She wasn't really anything. Just a ghost, something left behind by some cosmic entity that had found her unfit to bring on its' journey.

   “No One,” this time her voice is stronger, it comes from somewhere deep inside her, “I'm No One,” it's who she is. It's hers, it feels right on her tongue. It sends the same shot through her that getting caught in that junkyard had, “And who might you be?” content to stand there in the inky and enlightening world she had fallen into all while she answered his riddles. Some twisted Alice down a demented rabbithole.

   “Me?” she can almost hear the smirk on his lips in his voice, a voice that seems to echo and surround her, “I'm God, sweetie,” it's closer now, her fingers twitch, itching to reach out, “I decide what lives, what dies,” as if somehow the words could be caught, put in her pocket, and saved for when the chill of terror and heat of twisted excitement dissipated and she needed a fix, “And how bad I'm gonna make it hurt. Ain't that the best part about being God?” there's the barest brush against her shoulder, her body whips on instinct, “I get to decide everything that happens to anything,” he almost giggles, but it's nefarious in nature, there's a tug on the curl closest to her cheek, she gasps, “And No One is someone.”

   It sounds odd, the idea of being someone. But this is an out, Patrick had never seemed to wear a mask before, but he had. There was an unimaginable depth to his depravity, she could run, she should run. Itching fingers rise in the air, reaching out for anything, something to cling to as the hole swallowed her, blood and bones. It's a bruising grip she's rewarded with, it's not something she must cling to, he'll take her down with him even if she tries to climb out. But she won't.

   Who was No One in the face of God?

 


End file.
